


The Times Jim Prayed

by deawrites



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Adult Content, Explicit Language, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 16:52:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13415535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deawrites/pseuds/deawrites
Summary: Harvey's a priest and Jim is a Gotham activist. Together they're fifteen years apart.





	The Times Jim Prayed

**Author's Note:**

> All mistakes are my own. All kudos, suggestions, comments and criticisms welcome.
> 
> For my wife: who I would sin out the yin yang for and always will.

Harvey Bullock believed in god. He believed in treating others as you wish to be treated, charity, compassion and helping as many people as he was able to in his lifetime. His mother had been so proud when he put the vestments for the first time, her smile beaming so brightly that it was seared onto Harvey’s memory. Even in the darker times in his life he looked to that memory; to his mother for strength and a renewal in his faith in humanity. He was pragmatic, yet a believer at heart and treated his congregation as peers rather than subordinates. He was popular in both his profession and in his personal connections, and Harvey enjoyed his vocation and life choice. However, one rainy, cold, night he truly began to understand why people may doubt the existence of god.

 

It had been the worse two years of Jim Gordon’s life. He had been ten years old when the accident happened; the night the drunk driver hit and killed his father, Jason Gordon. Jason had been Jim’s world, his best friend, his hero, father and mentor all rolled up into one. Jim had been seriously hurt that night and taken nearly a year to recover, leaving him isolated, abandoned and a thing of fault in the eyes of his mother and older brother Roger.  Nora Gordon blamed Jim for the accident, for distracting his father with meaningless trifle instead of allowing her husband to concentrate upon his driving. Jim was the reason that Jason Gordon had even been behind the wheel, having gone with his son to a boy scout awards dinner. Roger had never been close with his little brother and had no use for him now that he was damaged from the accident and struggling to walk again. All of Jim’s childhood friends drifted on to other people, other groups as Jim was being temporarily home schooled at the hospital. The year after he had healed; his twelfth birthday had come and gone bringing with it puberty and misery of all other sorts.

 

Jim had left home on the anniversary of the crash; as coincidence would have it, it was also raining this night. Cold, drenched to the bone, and lonely beyond measure Jim wandered the streets of Gotham simultaneously lamenting god for his cruelty and praying for salvation. He was vulnerable, wounded, and emotionally scarred. He thought about suicide and was on his way to Gotham’s largest bridge when he spied the cathedral church. Freezing he walked up the stairs and tested the large front doors, shocked to find them unlocked. He genuflected out of habit and made his way further inside the church main chamber. There were a few older women praying, and one man; yet other than that Jim was the only one in the church. At least that was what he thought as he walked over to the LED candle display, paid a few coins of loose change and watched one of the tea lights spring into full glow. Jim wiped his features of both rain water and tears, shuffling back to a few pews from the front of the pulpit and sat down.

 

Bowing his head, he began to sob softly, covering his face with his hands to keep himself quiet. He was oblivious to those around him, knowing that the didn’t care if some boy were crying in their church. They had their own problems to deal with. Aside from that Jim was discovering that no one truly cared about anyone. His mother and brother’s lessons driving the point home daily.  That was what hurt Jim the most; the two people in all the world that could understand what he was going through had essentially turned their backs on him on an emotional basis. Jim heard footsteps near him and someone brush past his knees. He looked up to see a priest and momentarily gaped at him.

 

The twenty-seven-year-old was just shy of six feet tall, had broad shoulders, cinnamon rich red hair, light green eyes and a handsome face. Jim had never seen a better-looking man in his life, only second to his father. Jim swallowed, his tears momentarily forgotten.  The priest spoke, his voice soothing Jim instantly.

 

“Mind if I have a sit?”  Jim shook his head and the man sat down beside him. He rested his elbows upon his knees and regarded Jim for several seconds. “I couldn’t help but notice, you were crying.” Jim showed the man his profile and nodded. “Sometimes crying helps.”

 

Jim bitterly grumbled, “Well it sure as shit doesn’t help me feel any better.” He looked at the priest sheepishly. “Sorry.”

 

The priest smiled. “I’m Father Bullock; Harvey if you prefer. What’s your name?”

 

“Jim. Jim Gordon.”

 

Harvey had seen Jim’s face before in the Gotham Gazette first in the metro section and then on the front page. “Any relation to the ex-district attorney Jason Gordon?”

 

Jim’s voice dropped to barely a whisper. “He’s, he was my dad.”

 

Harvey nodded and sat back in the pew. “Well then, I think I’ll sit here and cry along with you.”

 

Jim’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Why would you do that?”

 

“Because he was a good man. And it sure as shit is a hell of a loss for this city. He was a good egg your father. But then again, you already know that.”

 

Jim gave a little smile and sat back in the pew as well. “Did, did you know my father?”

 

Harvey’s expression softened. “Now that, I never had the honor of doing. But I have seen his work; counseled a few juvenile youths that he spared. Seen him once or twice at city functions.”

 

Jim’s smile broadened. “Yeah, that was my dad.” He looked down at his hands and toyed with his fingers a little before raising his gaze back up to Harvey’s once more. “We used to go to church when he was alive. I think we were here once or twice, now that I think about it.” He shrugged. “How long have you been here?”

 

“Two years.” Harvey answered placing his right arm along the top of the pew and just barely brushing the back of Jim’s jacket. He didn’t want to touch the boy; lest he give anyone in the church; or Jim; the wrong impression of his intentions. It was sad, but also a sign of the times to worry about such appearances. “How long has he been dead now?”

 

“Two, two years.” Jim admitted looking down at Harvey’s lap. He remembered all the times his father had pulled him into his own. Jim raised his gaze and attempted to smile once more; and failed. “I miss him so much.”

 

“I believe that.” Harvey comforted granting Jim a slight smile of his own. Jim nodded.

 

“I wonder; a lot lately; why god,” Jim faltered, and anger flashed within his gaze surrounded by deep seeded anguish. “Why should I believe in a god that took my father away from me?”

 

“That’s a sound question.” Harvey agreed with a nod. “Now my question is, are you looking to me to answer it?”

 

Jim bit his bottom lip for a few seconds and released it. “Yeah. Why not? Why should I believe in god when he took everything that meant anything to me away from my life?”

 

“You know,” Harvey said leaning a little towards Jim to ensure that their conversation wasn’t being eavesdropped upon. “There’s no law that says you _have_ to believe.” Absolutely stunned that Harvey would say such a thing Jim’s body relaxed a little and he leaned in, listening to more. “As you know, there’s terrible, terrible things that happen in this world; all on god’s watch if you will. Faith is a fragile thing no matter what anyone tells themselves. Blessings are abounding? Faith is strong. Your father dies too young in a horrible car crash? Faith is shattered. You’re angry, you rail against god; and that’s okay.”

 

“I’ve never heard a priest talk like this Father Harvey.” Jim revealed awe struck. “I thought you were supposed to convince me that god works in mysterious ways or whatever.”

 

Harvey shook his head and patted Jim’s shoulder with the arm he had along the rim of the pew. “I’m not like any of the priests you’ve talked too before.” He winked at Jim. He became perfectly serious and gripped Jim’s shoulders. “You’re hurting and all I can tell you is that if you feel god is not listening to your prayers; or even feels real; that _I’m_ here. _I’m_ real; and _I’ll_ listen. Understood?” Jim nodded, and Harvey patted his shoulder once more and lifted his hand; he noticed that Jim leaned a little towards him beneath the physical attention. The boy was touch starved and he wondered who was his adult male, role model now. “So? I’m listening.”

 

“Really?” Jim asked before he could censor himself. Harvey motioned with his free hand for Jim to continue. “I left home tonight because it’s the anniversary of my father’s death. Mom is at a university function and Roger; my brother; is out on a date. They’re acting like nothing happened; like he never existed. And sometimes? Most times; they act like **I** don’t exist either.”

 

“I’m sorry to hear that. It sounds, a bit lonely if you ask me.”

 

Jim nodded and glanced down at Harvey’s lap once more before adding, “I don’t have any friends; not really. Not outside of school. I wanted to try out for baseball this year but, I don’t think I can until high school. I can walk and everything now; since the accident; but sometimes I’m still stiff when it rains.”

 

“You were in the car with him that night, were you?” It was more of a statement then a question and Jim answered that he was.  “I think I remember reading about it in the paper. It sounded horrifying.”

 

“I still have nightmares.”

 

“What do you do when you have one?”

 

“Wake up, change my pajamas and go back to bed. Or try to sleep anyway.”

 

“Your mother and brother don’t check on you?” Jim shook his head and Harvey took a breath to keep his tone even and not fly into anger. He only knew the situation though Jim’s eyes and had to look at all possible perceptions. “Do you want to talk about them?”

 

“Sometimes. Sometimes I just want to forget it ever happened; like some erase button for your life. But then I think, if I erased that night, then I wouldn’t remember all the good times with my dad.”

 

“That’s very true Jim. Astute of you to say.”

 

Jim offered a tiny smile. “I’m an astute kind of guy I guess.”

 

“Did you have nightmares last night?” Jim nodded. “Do you want to tell me about them.”

 

“You really want to know?”

 

“Yes. I do.” Jim’s smile reached all the way up into his eyes. Harvey could feel the natural tension in Jim’s demeanor vanish abruptly at the interest he was showing him.  “But I have a couple of towels in then back. Would you like for me to bring you one? So, you can dry off a little bit?”

 

“That, that would nice. Thank you, Father Harvey.” Harvey told him it was not a problem and excused himself for a few minutes. Upon his return he had a towel for Jim and a blanket to wrap around himself.  The two sat for the next three hours and Jim told Harvey about his nightmares, his lonely life and Harvey listened. As their trust in one another escalated Harvey asked Jim why he had gone out on such a rainy, cold night to mark the anniversary of his father’s death. Looking repentant Jim bowed his head forward and answered softly. “I was going to jump from the Gotham Grand Bridge.” Slowly he raised his blue-gray eyes to Harvey. “I wanted to die.”

 

Harvey encircled his arm around Jim’s shoulders and drew him against him, feeling Jim’s hands grip the lapels of his suit jacket and embraced him. He rested his cheek upon Jim’s head and sat for several seconds like that permitting Jim to luxuriate within the half embrace. “I’m glad you came here first.” Harvey admitted genuinely touched. “Because I think you’re to answer my prayer.”

 

“I am?” Jim asked completely confused.

 

“All I want to do is help people. And today; all day long; not a single person needed my help. I had about given up hope when you walked in and sat down. I helped you just a little. Didn’t I?”

 

Jim pushed hard against Harvey’s chest. “You’ve helped **a lot**.” Jim admitted with tears in his voice. “Do I have to leave yet?”

 

“No. Did you want to?”

 

“No.” Jim admitted feeling like he never wanted to leave again. Harvey’s embrace was warm and everything he needed in the moment and after it.

 

Jim went to the church and found Harvey off and on for the next five years. He even took part in a couple of youth programs the church offered that featured sports. Harvey had been saddened by Jim’s abandonment of his company, but then again someone as ambitious and focused as Jim wasn’t bound to have much spare time to participate in church activities anyway. At thirty-four-years-old Harvey was well ensconced into his community and congregation. The moment the leggy blond glided into the church with a nineteen-year-old Jim on her arm and a wedding planner, Harvey beamed with how much the teen had changed over the years. He had filled out, gotten handsomer, looked manlier instead of like a boy. His hair was kept short on the sides and back, and was even buzzed to a short length on top. His eyes were still wide, blue-gray and expressive. Harvey felt a warm sense of happiness when Jim laid eyes on him and beamed.

 

“Father Harvey!” He greeted hurrying over to Harvey from his fiancé’s side. They shook hands and Harvey patted him on the back, Jim absolutely giddy with seeing him again. “I’m so glad you’re still here.”

 

“As am I.” Harvey admitted with a wink. “And just who is this striking, young woman with you?”

 

“This is Barbara Kean.” Jim introduced. “My fiancé.” Barbara shook Harvey’s hand then Harvey was introduced to the wedding planner as well; as they had spoken on the phone earlier, to make the appointment to come by so that Jim and Barbara could consider the church as their wedding venue. While the women talked and pointed, planned and schemed Jim stood back with Harvey.

 

Harvey placed his hands behind his back and Jim crossed his arms over his chest. “She, uh; wanted a church wedding.” Jim explained quietly.

 

“And you?” Jim blushed a little and shrugged a shoulder.

 

“I don’t really care.”

 

“Still at odds with god?”

 

Jim shook his head. “Not so much. Now, I no longer believe so,” He paused and motioned with a hand.

 

“Ah.” Harvey intoned softly. “She seems a lovely girl.”

 

Jim blushed a little. “She’s a little older than I am. Twenty-three. We’re hoping to get married between my tours. Oh, I’m in the military now.”

 

“That explains the hair.” Harvey teased reaching out to run a hand over the soft bristles adorning the top of Jim’s head.  “Do you like it?”

 

“Well, it was either that or college.” Jim teased mirthlessly. “Yes.” He admitted. “I do. It’s like a hard-core version of the scouts a little.”

 

“You know, you could still go to college on the G.I. Bill if you chose too.”

 

Jim nodded. “I was thinking about that. But that won’t be for another two years or so.For now I’m boomeranging between deployment and state side.”

 

“That must be lonely.” Harvey soothed compassionately.

 

Jim shrugged once more. “Nothing I’m not already accustomed too.”

 

“Well then, leave me your E-mail address and I’ll send you a few letters from home. To help you pass the time.”

 

Jim’s entire face lit up. “You’d do that for me Father Harvey?”

 

“Of course.” Harvey assured placing a hand upon Jim’s shoulder. “It would be a privilege.” Jim was about to say something when Barbara called to him from the front of the church. He excused himself and left Harvey standing alone. Harvey watched him approach the two women and he nodded at Barbara who was staring right at him. He could have sworn she was glaring but he had no earthly idea why.

 

When Jim reached her, he placed a hand at the small of her back and she leaned in and whispered, “So that’s the man you never shut up about. He looks nothing like I expected he would.”

 

Brow furrowing Jim whispered back, “Why? What did you think he would look like?”

 

Barbara wrinkled her nose and pushed right up against the shell of his ear. “An Adonis.” Jim blushed furiously and when she pulled back she quirked an eyebrow at him in question. Jim failed to question her further, never knowing that she would never make it down the church aisle to him.

 

Seven years later Harvey was still corresponding with Jim via E-mail, yet now it was on his personal account. Jim had left the Marine Corps and was attending Gotham University as a political science major with a minor in law. At forty-years-old Harvey had seen many people file through the church doors, but none had been so fascinating and enrapturing to him as Jim Gordon. The man was twenty-five and all decked out in his wedding best. Harvey winked at him to keep him calm as his bride to be stepped out with her father at the first notes of the wedding march. Officiating weddings was one of the more civilized and low-key portions of Harvey’s job.

 

Jim had asked him for last minute advice before they ascended to the pulpit. Harvey had merely straightened Jim’s tie and reminded him to breathe. After that he placed both hands upon Jim’s shoulders and stared him down for several seconds before stating, “Remember. You don’t have to do this if you don’t want too.” He gave Jim a warm smirk of humor and felt Jim relax beneath his touch. The younger male said nothing in return and he followed Harvey out the side entrance into the main chamber, the groomsmen all waiting for him impatiently.

 

Jim’s bride was just as stunning as Jim looked; her raven black hair, blinding white smile and lithe, shapely frame. She was a doctor of medicine named Leslie Tompkins and had met Jim at a University fundraiser. She was a little older than he was; she was in her thirties; and Harvey was beginning to see a pattern in the partners Jim chose. The little he had talked to Leslie, Harvey found her to be highly intelligent, gracious and completely besot with Jim. He was grateful to be officiating their wedding nuptials and had an invitation to the reception following. Within a year Harvey was christening Jim’s first child with Leslie, both parents a glow with joy.

 

For a second time Jim chose a dark, cold, rainy night to come to the church alone; this time his heart was breaking even more than it had been the first time. It took some time for Harvey to clam Jim enough to ask him to follow him into the rectory. There was a sitting room for the priests to visit with guests without having to allow the public into their bedrooms. Harvey sat Jim down, got him a double of whiskey and retrieved a blanket to wrap around his shoulders. There was a fire going in the fireplace and Harvey had chased one other priest out of the room to permit Jim and himself a moderate amount of privacy.  Harvey sat down beside Jim and wrapped his arms around the twenty-six-year-old and pet a hand over the long hairs upon the crown of his head. The sides and back were still closely cropped to his skull, leaving the top longer in a completely mature style.

 

“Tell me, Jim. What’s happened?”

 

“The,” Jim dropped the whiskey glass, but Harvey lunged and caught it, only a little bit sloshing onto his hands. He placed the unwanted tumbler upon the coffee table and encircled his arms back around Jim. “My baby;” Jim sobbed. “My baby is _dead_.”

 

Everything in Harvey went cold and he pulled Jim to his chest and held his head against his shoulder. Jim clung to him and sobbed like Harvey had never heard him sob before. Even after he had returned from overseas and suffering from survivors’ guilt; not even the first night they had met when Jim had been suicidal and missing his father desperate to be heard. There were no platitudes to speak; no speeches about how God was with him and that Jim’s daughter was now in heaven awaiting him. Harvey knew enough of the world to know when to keep his trap shut and just listen; just hold someone and be there for them. Now was such a time. Tears filled his eyes and he began to cry along with Jim.

 

Jim’s daughter was dead.

 

The funeral was held a few days later, the rain relenting enough for the procession to exit the church with the tiny coffin. It was loaded into the back of the hearse and Harvey was taken to the funeral in the family limousine at Jim’s request. Leslie sat ridged, staring out of the window. She flinched when Jim reached out to take her hand, and pulled it away from his grip. Jim sat silently with tears streaming down his cheeks and looked at Harvey forlornly. Harvey gave him a sympathetic look and Jim wiped away his tears and sat stoically after that all the way to the grave site.  The graveside service was difficult for Harvey to get through without showing emotions of his own. He cared very much for Jim, and always found burying children challenging. Leslie did lean on Jim at one point and he put his arm around her, but their contact was short lived, and their walk back to the limousine after separate. Harvey fell in along side of Jim as they walked to the car.

 

“I’m here for you Jim. You know that.” Harvey stated, his voice solemn and his hand slipped into Jim’s. The contact startled Jim at first but then he held on tightly to Harvey’s hand.

 

“Thank you.” Was all Jim said, and he refused to let go of Harvey’s hand until they were at the car.

 

A few months later, Jim and Leslie decided to get divorced. Following the separation, Harvey’s contact with Jim was once again sporadic. Jim threw himself into his work as an activist for making Gotham a better place to live. He focused on getting after school programs started and funded. He badgered the GCPD and city officials to be held accountable for their own crimes against the good citizens. His name was in the paper and he had established himself as the proverbial thorn in Gotham’s governments side. Harvey had watched the rise of Jim’s career with pride and a little bit of trepidation. He was afraid that Jim would follow in the footsteps of his father by being made a target for his beliefs and outspokenness. Jason Gordon had received many death threats in his life time and Harvey wondered if the accident all those years ago had been an assassination instead. He told Jim of his worries regarding his own life, and Jim would always soothe him by explaining that if he was marked that meant he was doing something right and making leeway in against the corrupt system. Harvey had to agree with Jim’s assessment there.

 

However, it was a Gotham street gang that struck first; and it wasn’t Jim who was their target. Harvey was known in the immediate area for being outspoken in his own right and ran many youth programs. He had enraged the wrong teens and as an act of retaliation Harvey was stabbed several times and left in the church to bleed out. As he lay there he thought of Jim; how he was most proud of everything that they had achieved together and apart. He would miss Jim the most; looked at him as a surrogate son, his best friend, his hero and student; Jim was Harvey’s everything and should he die today it was Jim he would mourn for. Not himself; never himself or even his own family. The Bullocks were a family that knew how not only to survive, yet thrive. Harvey was fifty years old and he knew he had lived a good life. His mother; Grace; would be proud and he knew she would be awaiting him in heaven. She had to be.

 

Harvey closed his eyes and thought of Jim.

 

Father Gentry had called Jim’s offices as Jim was rarely home. At thirty-five-years of age Jim had energy, drive and ambition to make the most of his younger years. When he heard Father Gentry’s voice Jim couldn’t understand what the man was saying. He knew what the words were, what they meant, but he couldn’t reconcile them within his mind. Harvey? Stabbed? When the anxious man’s words finally filtered through Jim’s brain to his heart, Jim’s entire body seized up in fear. Harvey was _stabbed_. He was in the hospital in surgery. Jim abandoned everything and everyone still in the office as he hailed a cab to get him to Gotham General as quickly as possible. He payed the cab driver extra and was thankful that the man didn’t mind breaking a few laws to get his fare there in a hurry.

 

Jim ran into the hospital and inquired at the front reception desk where to go. He ended up on the forth floor pacing and doing something he hadn’t done since his tours of Pakistan and Afghanistan; Jim prayed. Not only did he pray, but he demanded that a god existed that would watch over Harvey and see him through the surgery and to his feet once more.  Jim paced and stopped every medical person that passed the waiting lobby for information on Harvey. Finally, after ten hours, three bad cups of coffee, a bottle of water and a granola bar from a vending machine, a doctor emerged to give Jim an update. Harvey had made it through surgery and would be taken to a room after he woke up in recovery. Jim would then be permitted to see him. Jim shook the doctor’s hand and then spent the next hour loitering around the nurses’ station seeking any news about Harvey’s status. Finally; blessedly; they told him what room to go too. Jim nearly flew there, he didn’t remember walking the corridor, nor running it. But one moment he was at the nurses’ station and the next he was at the threshold of Harvey’s door.

 

Exhausted and pale, fragile and vulnerable; was how Jim judged Harvey to look in the hospital bed. He slowly walked over to the bedside and leaned forward to kiss Harvey’s temple. Harvey’s eyes fluttered open and Jim nearly gasped in relief.

 

“Hey.” He greeted softly, placing his hand upon Harvey’s.

 

“Jim. You don’t mind if I don’t get up to greet you, do you?”

 

“No.” Jim laughed softly. He reached up with his free hand and stroked back Harvey’s hair. “Father Gentry called me.” Jim leaned forward once more, this time to leave a kiss in the center of Harvey’s forehead. “He was here with Father Peskist a little earlier, but they had go.”

 

“Clean the church, see to the flock. Yes, they would have to, wouldn’t they?” Harvey maligned of his unfit condition. He squeezed Jim’s hand. “You’re here. That’s all I care about.” He admitted softly, his voice gravely from the breathing tube being down it for the course of the surgery. “I thought about you, when,” Harvey paused and closed his eyes for a few seconds and once more applied pressure to their union of hands. He opened his eyes slowly and looked at Jim. “I thought about you.”

 

Jim’s eyes misted with tears, but they remained unshed. “I was so scared that you were going to die.”

 

Harvey nodded ever so slightly. “Me too.” He admitted truthfully. Jim leaned forward and pushed his forehead against Harvey’s temple.

 

“Please tell me you’re going to live.” Jim whispered, and Harvey attempted to chuckle once more.

 

“I’m going to live Jim. I have a very good reason too.” Harvey pivoted his head a little and placed a kiss upon the bridge of Jim’s nose. “You. I have you.”

 

It was then that Jim broke down in tears and encircled his arms around Harvey’s shoulders the best he was able too with the man laying upright in bed.

 

In the weeks that followed Jim’s work took a backseat to Harvey’s healing. He spent so much time at the church Father Gentry and Father Peskist attempted to recruit him to the ministry. Jim politely refused explaining he was an atheist so that would not be conducive to becoming a priest. Instead he helped Harvey any way he could, including being just a phone call away whenever Harvey had the occasional nightmare. If anyone understood what damage those could do it was Jim and Harvey well knew it. The roll reversal was strange, but Harvey found that he enjoyed Jim taking care of him and it seemed that Jim was quite happy with the arrangement himself. Jim pressed Harvey that whenever he decided to retire from the priesthood that he come work for Jim at his offices. Harvey agreed, and the two men began to spend all their free time together.

 

Jim began to invite Harvey over to his condo, and the first time that Harvey showed up wearing regular street clothes and not his regular ‘uniform’, Jim’s heart skipped a beat. Harvey wore fitted jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Jim stood blinking at him in the door way for several seconds before recovering himself and inviting the man inside. Now he was so used to Harvey showing up in civilian clothing that he was surprised if Harvey arrived wearing his collar and uniform suit. Sundays were Jim’s favorite. He would go to morning service; sometimes; but by the time evening hit and Harvey was finished with his day, he would come over to Jim’s and they would have dinner together. On this day Jim never ordered out but always made them a homemade meal from scratch. They would have a drink or two and talk until the wee hours of the morning. Harvey would then spend the night; most nights; and they would share the bed. In the morning Jim would make them breakfast and they would share a cab back to the church and then Jim would go onto work.  Every once and a while when it was another day of the week Harvey would spend the night, yet those occasions were too far and few between for Jim.

 

Harvey enjoyed Sundays just as much, if not more; than Jim did. To have some place homey to go after a long day of services; to be fawned over, taken care of and treated like a man instead of a priest was just what Harvey needed. He felt like part of Jim’s family; all be it a family of one; and to have that time outside of his own family, well, it was welcomed. Harvey felt a little guilty that sometimes within his mind he pictured Jim and him as a regular couple; two men sharing their lives together; and he wondered what it would be like if that were true. He was not a virgin, but he had spent many years celibate as he took his vows seriously. However, Jim Gordon, was tempting to say the least. To say the most, Harvey was hopelessly besotted with him. He felt like a dirty old man; lecherous and a predator of Jim’s youthful flesh. Yet the more Harvey came over to see Jim, the more that Jim wanted Harvey to attend him. And attend him, Harvey wished too. Those nights in bed with Jim’s warm body pressed up against his back were maddening. What if he were to roll over one night and kiss the sleeping male next to him? He knew that Jim was no stranger to a man in his bed, so what if he told Jim the truth about his desires and broke his vows? Would Jim try and stop him? Or would he throw propriety to the wind and demand that Harvey take him. While Harvey had been with women before, he had yet to be with a man; but Jim wasn’t just **any** man: Jim was a particular rarity. Temptation on two legs and Harvey could barely resist him. Yet resist him he did; somehow; and as time wore on between them Harvey knew he was beginning to question all sacraments and his vows; did the church need him as much as Jim did? He wondered, and he seethed with the questions. He attempted to talk to his fellow priests at the rectory, however all they recommended was that he stay away from the source of his temptation. Jim was his best friend so that suggestion was off the table. Jim needed him, and Harvey needed Jim.

 

One Sunday after a brutally busy weekend, Harvey was late to leave the church for dinner. He forewent changing his clothes and just left in his priest’s garb. Upon arriving at Jim’s, he had a bottle of wine, mini-chocolate cupcakes and an apology upon his lips. Jim chuckled at the gifts, teasing that Harvey should have brought him flowers instead of cakes, as the flowers were calorie free. Expression entirely serious, Harvey asked if Jim would indeed prefer flowers next time. Jim blushed beet red and mumbled that he would.

 

“Have a bit of a romantic streak in you, do you?” Harvey half teased, half fished for information. Jim’s blush spread, and he hurriedly looked away to hide his face. “It’s all right.” Harvey assured touching one of Jim’s shoulders in response. “I do too. That’s why I asked.”

 

“Women seem like they have the monopoly on romance, but they don’t.” Jim reasoned coyly. “At least, they _shouldn’t_.”

 

Harvey laughed. “Do you want me to open the wine?”

 

“That would be great. Thank you. And by the way? You’re not all that late. Dinner needed a few extra minutes.”

 

“I’ll call my rudeness fortuitous then.” He winked at Jim and could have sworn he heard the younger man giggle. Harvey knew where the cork remover was and went to the drawer to fetch it. He had left the bottle of wine on the table. Jim was just turning around to say something when their bellies brushed, and Jim’s hands immediately went to Harvey’s chest, and Harvey’s to Jim’s hips. They stared at one another, eyes darting from mouths to eyes and back again. Jim swallowed, tried to say something amusing and failed to speak at all. Harvey wet his lips and stared into Jim’s gaze. “By god, you are the most beautiful man I have ever seen.”

 

Jim’s hands moved a little upon Harvey’s chest. “I love you.” Jim uttered through his fear and pounding heart.

 

“I know you do.” Harvey conceded. Jim shook his head sharply.

 

“No, I’m in **love** with you Harvey.”

 

Harvey smirked, his thumbs rolling on Jim’s hips slightly. “Well now you’ve gone and said it twice? Thinking I’m too old to hear you so well?” He could feel Jim trembling in his arms.

 

Jim smiled. “You don’t mind?”

 

“You repeating it twice?”

 

“No, that I feel that way?”

 

“Aside from a little thing known as my vows no; I prefer that you feel that way.”

 

“Good.” Was all Jim uttered before he took Harvey’s lips in his own. Any thought of pushing Jim away and telling him they had to respect Harvey’s commitments to the church flew out the window as Jim’s lower body ground against him. Harvey slid his hands around to the small of Jim’s back and then down to his ass. Jim moaned in the kiss and encircled his arms around Harvey’s body. They kissed for what seemed like hours, and by the time they parted Harvey was achingly hard and panting for breath. Jim laughed and wet his own lips to get a taste of Harvey from them. “We’ll eat dinner and then I’ll take you to bed.”

 

“Jim,”

 

“If you change your mind it’s fine.” Jim interrupted affectionately. “I mean, I’ll be disappointed you aren’t following through, but I understand. You’re a priest. I haven’t forgotten about that aspect.”

 

“At least one of us hasn’t.” Harvey smirked. “A few more kisses like that and I’ll forget my own name.”

 

Jim blushed a little. “I love kissing you.”

 

“Well then, kiss me again.”

 

Jim did. He had a feeling that the two of them wouldn’t be doing much sleeping that night. Priest or not, Jim believed in Harvey more than he ever believed in any god; and he wanted Harvey to place his faith in him too. He sensed that Harvey was beginning to come around to the idea of being worshiped and worshiping Jim in return.  Regardless, of his atheist stature; Jim felt compelled to send up a prayer of gratitude for Harvey being in his life at all. He had never been in love with anyone the way he was in love with, or as deeply as he was with Harvey. He wanted to spend the rest of his life making that more than apparent to the older man, who had saved him one night long ago in a Gotham church when he was twelve.

 

Jim owed Harvey his life and was bound and determined to give it too him.


End file.
